


The Everyone Conspiracy

by neosaiyanangel



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Conspiracy Theories, Gen, Madness, pulling the thread, talking the madman down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 07:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21222692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neosaiyanangel/pseuds/neosaiyanangel
Summary: To David’s dismay, it may genuinely be possible that Basil has gone completely mad.





	The Everyone Conspiracy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnapologeticallyMeatwad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnapologeticallyMeatwad/gifts).

It was a calm, cool spring day. Flowers were just starting to bloom; the trees were bursts of various shades of green; wildlife had awoken from their winter sleep to begin the cycle of life once more. Far better weather than the drab fall they had the few months' previous.

But a certain mouse simply couldn't enjoy the weather as he normally did. The doctor rested in his seat on the footstep of the coach he had caught after he'd finished at the marketplace. While he had gotten a newspaper to read on the way to his friend's place, he simply didn't feel like reading it, too preoccupied with his worrisome thoughts.

David was at a genuine loss.

Basil had been acting...peculiar. Ever since the final defeat of Professor Ratigan those several months back, he had been going, well, _batty_. It was small things at first. Really unremarkable. Comments about a pair of unrelated crimes possibly being related here, suspicions of completely normal, albeit shady-looking, mice there. Nothing _too_ strange.

And then Basil started muttering to himself. That was the first sign that something was wrong. Usually his words were too low to properly hear. But when one could hear him...goodness, he sounded like a loon!

"She's watching me. Clearly working for _them_."

"_They_ seem to have infiltrated the nursery over there. I must keep my eye on those children."

"Whoever _they_ are think they're smarter than I! I'll get them. They'll all see then. I'll expose them…"

David had found permanent accommodations a mere few blocks from where Basil lived. It was in a quaint clinic that offered him plenty of supplies for his own work. A rather perfect set-up, if he did say so himself. It allowed him to have frequent visits with his friend. But, perhaps, not frequent enough.

He snapped from his thoughts as the carriage slowed down at a familiar corner. Swiftly he hopped from his seat down to the street, being careful to keep from falling under the wheel. It didn't take long to find himself at Basil's door. David heard the manic laughter of his friend from inside.

He sighed. Basil must have company over to rant at; otherwise he would be silently ranting to himself.

Bracing himself, David opened the practically always unlocked door.

"—brackets!" Basil was positioned in front of a large board that was covered in newspaper clippings and pictures. Lengths of yarn were spun about little pegs scattered amongst the chaos. He was pointing to the very edge and tracing his fingers along a string. He looked just as unkempt as the last time David had seen him: rumpled, old clothing; messy fur sticking out at odd angles across his body; wild, bloodshot eyes; and a particular tick to his face that simply made him look deranged. In a leading voice, he said, "A pattern."

"A pattern?" The voice that came from the chair whose back was to David sounded oddly familiar.

"Yes! Haha! A _pattern_!" He plucked a few strings. "As you can _clearly _see, the evening singer who lost her emerald ring was a scout! A scout for this new nefarious group who have been causing chaos in their wake! And!" Basil waved at a particular peg. "One of their safehouses is the nursery down the street! Fiends, using children in their schemes!"

"How is this a pattern? I don't understand." Suddenly the voice clicked.

David rounded the chair to meet—

"Olivia?!" He chuckled, taken by surprise. "What brings you about?"

"I requested Miss Flabberblaster here to aid me," Basil not-so-patiently explained. "She was the _key_ to defeating Ratigan once and for all! Her insight might help me with this puzzle as well."

"Uhm…" David decided not to point out that Olivia was more a playing piece than a player. Instead, he asked, "Olivia, have you been able to help Basil at all with his, ah, 'problem'?"

The phrasing seemed to go over her head. "Oh no! Basil has been explaining to me, but it doesn't make sense!"

"You simply are missing the details!" Basil insisted. "As this chart _clearly_ demonstrates, they are all connected!"

"It's nonsense!" Olivia complained back. "How could nans from the old mouse home clear across the city be spying on you? Or the emerald ring—you _found_ it in a relative's stash! They had stolen it! That was the _entire_ case. How could she be a scout? The way you're phrasing things, _everyone_ is a spy for this 'group'!"

To David's surprise, Basil had a minor flinch before he resumed his crazed mask. "You're mistaken. You're mistaken! It was all a _set-up_."

"By this mystery group who are determined to follow you around? Why would they even do that?" David threw in.

"They realize I'm on to them!" the detective instantly countered.

"Basil." Olivia's tone was as if she was explaining to a baby. She got up and walked over to Basil. "You're saying that everyone is a spy, starting with your first case after that mean rat was beaten. Because you were on to their group. But…" She took one of Basil's hands into her own. "...why would they send a scout to spy on you when you had no idea who they were?"

Basil froze. His face twitched left. Right. His lip quivered for a moment as the words seemed to make an impact with him. He vaguely uttered, "But _the pattern_…"

"There _is_ no pattern," David asserted. "Nothing is related. They're all separate occurrences." He paused, then added, "The almshouse is new to me."

"I…" Basil's mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Here." Olivia led Basil to his sitting chair. She lightly pushed him into it. "I think you need a nice break from figuring stuff out to get better." She nodded, then began to skip for the kitchen. Opening the door, she said in a chipper tone, "I'll see if there are any cheese crumpets to eat!"

As the door settled back in its frame, Basil looked at David, shell-shocked. "Dawson…" He sounded tired. The most tired David had ever seen. He repeated, "Dawson...am I…" His mouth struggled with the words. "...Am I going insane?"

"No!" David immediately said. "Oh no! Nonono! You just…" He searched for the right words. "You simply need a rest." Certain he'd latched on to a good idea, he continued, "You've been going full steam after a traumatic experience. As a doctor, I would recommend some quiet time. No mysteries, no conspiracies. Just you, your hobbies, and your friends."

"Friends. Yes. Right." Basil gave a strange little laugh. "Just some rest! Some rest and quiet and all these schemes will simply vanish like they never existed."

"Because they _don't _exist," David said sympathetically. "Your imagination, while excellent at figuring things out, has gotten away from you."

"No mysteries. Just quiet." Basil seemed to be getting the idea.

"Yes." David moved the board over and sat in the opposite chair. "Learn a new hobby. Rearrange your home. Go on a vacation!" Excitedly get began waxing poetic, "Oh, you should _see_ some of the sights in the Middle East! I wouldn't mind going back for a visit. I could even guide you around."

"I've never…_been_ on a vacation," Basil said hesitantly with a glimmer of interest.

David pounced. "We can go wherever you want!"

"I suppose…" He seemed to be toying with an idea. "Seeing the Great Wall with my own eyes would be quite the adventure."

"Indeed," David agreed.

"I want to come!" Olivia burst out, making David jump.

Goodness! When had she come back from the kitchen?

"Now now, Miss Flingburshimmer," Basil said, regaining some of his composure, "China is _not_ a friendly place for foreign mice."

"I'm sure my Da would be fine with it!" Olivia insisted.

"I—" Basil was interrupted in his protest by a knock on his door. He turned, running fingers through the fur on top of his head as he loudly said, "Enter!"

The door opened. In shuffled a middle-aged mouse with tufting red fur. He looked like a simple mouse.

"Is this the residence of Basil of Baker Street?" he asked, looking around.

"Yes, it is," David replied for Basil.

"Have you need of my services?" Basil butted in.

The man stared at Basil, clearly judging him. Cautiously he said, "Yes…?"

"Excellent!"

"Basil!" David snapped. "What did we just talk about?!"

"Now now. David. I will need something to do while you're arranging our trip to China!" Basil declared.

"And doing what Mr. Dawson said not to do is the right thing?" Olivia said doubtfully.

"Just this one last case. Then, vacation!" Basil seemed to promise. "And I won't try to connect this to the conspiracy!"

David sighed. At least he seemed more sane. Reluctantly he allowed, "Alright. This one last case _and that's it_."

"Excellent!" Basil jumped from his seat and waved the mouse down. "Come! Tell us of your case and we'll get it solved in no time."

"Well…" The mouse coughed. "It's about a group called the Red-Furred League…"


End file.
